


Febrile

by Lucy_Ferrier



Series: Clichés [3]
Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Ferrier/pseuds/Lucy_Ferrier
Summary: Catching sight of Toby in the corridor was an accident, yet the corridors had been crawling with enough other staff that Adil hadn’t been able to do more than catch Toby’s eye as he’d been whisked back out to the bar, his breath catching in his throat when Adil took in the dark circles, stark against waxy pale skin, doubling over by the stairs with a string of sharp coughs that felt like they must have echoed up Toby’s trachea.
Relationships: Toby Hamilton/Adil Joshi
Series: Clichés [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964836
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	Febrile

**Author's Note:**

> based on: "3. I’m dying and I’m confessing my love for you"

It had been bound to catch up with Toby eventually. Anyone could have seen it coming, had they bothered to look closely enough. Endless days in a small airless office with several other people crammed in close proximity in the middle of winter, gas heaters pumping fatigue inducing heat throughout the space. A glorified petri dish that Toby couldn’t bring himself to escape.

If anyone had asked Adil, he wouldn’t have been able to answer on principle, but if, hypothetically he _did,_ he would have said that Toby had seemed off for the last few days – there was only so many hacked up coughing fits Toby could wave away, but it wasn’t as if his office could afford to lose him at the moment; he’d hardly managed a day off in months, though he could hardly justify one for a _cold._ That wasn’t to say Adil didn’t worry, though perhaps that may have been hypocritical of him. With so many of the junior staff having quit to play soldier, it wasn’t as if Adil could escape a shift either, though it was starting to sting that Adil couldn’t manage a minute long enough alone with Toby to fuss over him, beg him to take a break, a moment to catch his breath before he burnt out completely and a cold became the least of their worries.

Catching sight of Toby in the corridor was an accident, yet the corridors had been crawling with enough other staff that Adil hadn’t been able to do more than catch Toby’s eye as he’d been whisked back out to the bar, his breath catching in his throat when Adil took in the dark circles, stark against waxy pale skin, doubling over by the stairs with a string of sharp coughs that felt like they must have echoed up Toby’s trachea. He didn’t get a chance to see the way Toby slumped against the banister, too tired and too defeated to follow him.

…

There were very few things that Toby hated more than letting people realise when he was vulnerable. He could, in fact, count on one hand the number of people he’d be comfortable with right now, one being his brother, who was once again away at base, the other being Adil, who was pulling yet another fourteen hour shift because of staffing issues.

He’d pushed through the day despite how truly rubbish he felt – he was hardly going to admit to his boss, or worse his _mother,_ that he was a little under the weather, as it were.

So, he’d replied to his mother’s concerned frown with a blatantly incorrect _I’m fine,_ had trudged off to work despite it all, February sleet slicing through his coat. Toby ignored the pressure building in his sinuses, the red raw feeling in his throat every time he swallowed. But his hands betrayed him with their sluggish movements, and it was all he could do to dodge reprimands for typos and incomplete work.

He’d stumbled through the staff entrance on the off chance that he might see Adil, and he _had,_ but seeing him and being unable to reach out or even speak to him made the pang in his chest sting something awful, the last straw that made his legs want to give out, or would have, had his lungs not tried to give out first. The coughs had ripped through him, leaving Toby feeling like someone had sliced through his chest with a dull knife as he slumped against the wall, watching Adil shoot him a pained look over his shoulder as he was herded back out to the bar.

He was sore, and he was tired, and Toby wanted, more than anything, to bury himself against Adil and hope that things might be better in the morning, just the two of them tucked away from the world for a handful of hours. It wasn’t fair, probably, that Toby wanted Adil to fuss over him while he was hurting, when Adil was clearly just as rushed off his feet. Truly, Toby wouldn’t have minded finding a moment to check that _Adil_ was okay, taken a second or two to cause a fuss over Adil’s blatant exhaustion and blistered hands.

…

Perhaps the strangest thing about creeping up the stairs in the early hours of the morning was the painfully present stillness of the hotel – not a single guest was up; the night staff had already traded tired and relieved smiles as they changed out of their uniforms at last, ready to trudge home through the cold. It wasn’t fair, probably, that Adil hoped that Toby was still awake, hoped he might have a handful of moments before he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Having said that, seeing Toby answer his knock on the door, near silent yet echoingly loud in the empty corridor, had him ready to scold him even as Adil collapsed against his chest. He was sore all over, too many hours upright, and well past dead on his feet. Adil shivered against Toby; though the blackout curtains had been drawn several hours earlier, Toby must have left a window open regardless, a chill creeping up Adil’s extremities, settling somewhere in his abdomen.

“Are you alright?” Adil whispered into Toby’s collarbone, feeling him shift as Toby shut the door behind him.

Toby grunted, smiling despite himself as he began walking Adil over to the bed, Adil’s grip around his waist never loosening. “I keep coughing. You’ll probably abandon me in twenty minutes because you can’t sleep because of it either.”

Adil scoffed as he fell back against the mattress, already reaching for his buttons, Toby pulling away to find him spare pyjamas. “They could start dropping bombs on the hotel again and I think I’d be able to sleep through it at the moment.”

Toby could only hum in agreement, though it was cut short by a series of chunky sounding coughs, each one causing Adil to wince as Toby doubled over, taking a moment to catch his breath again. He smiled weakly back at Adil’s concerned look, tossing a worn pyjama shirt in his direction.

Adil caught himself shivering again as he got changed, teeth knocking together in a bemusing chatter.

“Toby, it’s _freezing_ in here.”

Toby blinked in surprise. “Really? I had the heater on before, but… I suppose I could put it on again for you?” He walked over to where Adil was stood by the bed, running his hands up and down his bare arms. “You don’t _feel_ that cold.”

“And you hardly feel _that_ warm.” Adil pointed out.

Toby kissed his temple, smiling into it. “I’ll put the heater back on, love.”

…

There were days when Toby missed waking up to sunlight poking through the windows; there was something about blackouts that made getting up so much harder each morning. He muffled a cough as he sat up, blinking awake. It was still dark enough with the curtains closed that Toby was only just able to make up where Adil was curled up tightly on one side of the bed as he reached for the lamp on the nightstand.

The yellow bulb bathed the room in sickly artificial light, but Toby couldn’t bring himself to stumble over to the window just yet. The last threads of frost from earlier that morning were still creeping through the wallpaper, the timer on the heater having long since run out. There were very few things Toby wanted to do in that moment other than wrap himself around Adil again and pretend neither of them had to get up ever again.

Glancing back over at Adil however, felt somewhat like being drenched in cold water, that very small and ever optimistic idea ripped up and spat back at him just like that.

Adil lay curled around himself in a parodic foetal position. There were times when it could be said a person clung to themselves as if to stop themselves from flying apart, but none that Toby had ever seen seemed to quite capture the literality of it the way Adil seemed to unwittingly do so right then. The pyjama shirt that Toby had lent him the night before clung to Adil’s skin with stale sweat, and his arms clung to his middle has he shook violently with tremors. Adil tucked his nose against his knees as the blankets slipped off his back again, exposing bare legs encased with goosebumps.

“Adil?”

Adil was glassy eyed as he blinked up at Toby’s anxious face, breath slow and forcibly measured, but he didn’t try to respond more than a weak smile before tucking his face back against the pillow.

“Oh god,” whispered Toby. “Adil, you can’t- how am I- you can’t stay in here!”

Adil groaned. “ _Why,_ ” he muttered, the syllable dry and scratchy.

“The maids-” Toby cut himself off, ready to collapse in panic. It was too early for this.

“Say you don’t want housekeeping today. Blame work.” Adil said when his brain finally caught up, sluggish with fatigue and fever. “They all remember the last time you brought home something classified.”

It seemed like a fairly competent attempt at an otherwise solid argument; however, it was delivered with enough sulk to highlight the fact that truly, Adil just didn’t want to move, regardless of the fact that he was now sitting up, and was further undermined by the fact he was clearly losing his voice.

“I have _work,_ fuc- _you_ have work, how the hell are you meant to call in sick from _my_ room-”

Adil whined at Toby’s increasing volume, collapsing back down onto the mattress. “Toby, I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

As planned, it was just ridiculous enough of a thing to say to stop Toby’s panic for the moment. Though perhaps, once he’d taken another second, just to look, Toby thought perhaps, not as ridiculous as it might have sounded yesterday. Adil’s breathing had become laboured by just that one outburst, and below the sheen of sweat, he did look rather pale in the yellowed light.

Far slower, Toby lowered himself back down beside Adil, pulling him against his chest. Heat radiated off him, though his skin remained clammy. Toby attempted to brush Adil’s damp hair back off his face, choking back his own cough; a startling reminder that he was, in fact, still sick himself.

“You’re not dying. You have a fever,” Toby smiled against the top of Adil’s head as Adil buried his nose against Toby’s clavicle, trying to pull himself as close as possible as the shivers returned in full force. “I think I have aspirin somewhere in my desk, we can try and bring your temperature down with that… and um, damp cloths? I suppose? That’s what people normally do for fever right?” Toby ran his teeth over his lip. “If we moved you out of the hotel, I could call a doctor…”

“I love you,” Adil murmured into Toby’s shoulder, flexing his fingers around his shirt as Toby began to pry him off, mind already a million steps ahead.

Toby crossed the room to his desk, and sure enough, in one of the draws Toby managed to retrieve a half full bottle of aspirin, the dusty pills still intact despite the crack in the lid.

“Here.” Toby retrieved two pills and reached out in Adil’s direction, Adil remaining stubbornly unmoving, tremors aside. “Adil.” He repeated, in case he hadn’t heard.

Adil whined again, pulling the blanket over his head.

“You’re not dying,” Toby resisted the urge to roll his eyes, fondness or no.

“I definitely am.” Came Adil’s muffled reply.

“Nope.”

“I love you.”

“Not dying. And you know how I know?” Toby grinned as Adil’s face furrowed into a suspicious frown over the top of the blanket. “If you were dying you wouldn’t actually _tell_ me.”

“… well I’m dying now. So I want you to know. That I love you.”

“I love you too. Swallow the damn aspirin.”

Adil’s glare was cut short as Toby fell back a step in another coughing fit, his body shaking with the force of it. Toby leant heavily against the bedhead as he caught his breath again, exhausted again now that his chest had stopped spasming for the moment.

“Fine,” Adil muttered, snatching the pills from Toby’s hand. “But you have to take some too.”

“But you’re the one with the fever…” Toby placed the pill bottle on the bedside as he all but fell back on the bed beside Adil.

Adil rolled over him so that he was suddenly on top of Toby, reaching with one shaking hand for the aspirin. Febrile heat leached into Toby’s abdomen as Adil stared him down, fever glazed eyes doing nothing to dampen his glare.

“I love you,” Toby offered, rolling onto his side, effectively knocking Adil over. “There’s no point in me taking any.”

“They’re painkillers too!”

“It only hurts when I cough,” Toby mumbled, promptly getting cut off by another painful coughing fit.

Adil raised an eyebrow at him, but though he wanted to keep arguing the point, he was more exhausted by the minimal exertion than he wanted to admit, and was seriously considering just going back to sleep. He could deal with an angry Garland tomorrow if he didn’t wake up, or he could get sent home when he inevitably struggled back into his uniform and dragged himself down to the bar. Toby could let his office know he wasn’t coming in, because Adil was more than happy to keep using him as a cool pack – the short walk over to his desk having left Toby’s feet icy.

“I love you,” Adil whispered against Toby’s chest again, closing his eyes.

Toby smiled against the top of his head, again. “You’re going to be fine,” he whispered back.


End file.
